


The Origins of Power: Symbiosis

by ASOUEfan



Series: The Origins Series [2]
Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Aftercare, Anxiety Attacks, Cold showering, Dom!Venable, Dom/sub, Domestic, Established Relationship, F/F, Kneeling, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Denial, Pet!Reader, Rope Bondage, Spanking, Stripping, sub!Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:42:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23509357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ASOUEfan/pseuds/ASOUEfan
Summary: Since their chance meeting in a bar a few months ago, Mina and the reader adjust to being a couple with the stresses of everyday life upon them. The Reader has many demands on her time, university and friends and now Miss Venable, and her anxieties get the better of her, until Mina intervenes.I've had multiple requests for more of this universe, so back by popular demand is more Miss Venable and Jenna, (the pet!reader which we all know so well now). We all need a Mina in our lives ;)
Relationships: Wilhemina Venable/You, wilhemina venable/reader
Series: The Origins Series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1691551
Comments: 13
Kudos: 88





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Its been said many times through the series how in the early days the reader struggled with anxiety and how Mina helped that, so I wanted to explore this, an issue something so many of us struggle with. How Miss Venable gets her to entrust those feelings to her, and how giving up control isn't just about the bedroom, but can be cathartic too. 
> 
> I'll be cataloging their ups and downs of getting to know one another through the early days of their relationship and navigating normal life, to become the power couple we came to meet in The Ties that Bind, and all the ensuing drama.

It was mid-week, and a busy one at Kineros Robotics. Miss Venable had worked late, yet still found there was reason to bring work home with her to complete, much to her distaste. The evening was _her_ time, and she didn't appreciate it being soured by the stresses of the day accompanying her home.

But as it was, you were a student and almost _always_ had work todo, also. Business Economics and Finance was at least an area that Miss Venable could sometimes usefully tutor, when you struggled wth concepts - or in fact queried the purpose of your chosen college degree at all.

You sat the other side of the table from her lilac macbook surrounded by your spread of texts, busily highlighting research papers. Finding useful quotes that you wanted to remember and use for writing up your essay paper later seemed easy enough, and you’re sure theres some way of searching key words and tags if you were so technologically minded, but as it was, you relied more on a good pen than search engine results.

Even silent, she was distracting, terribly so. The rhythmical tip tap of her fingers on the keyboard, the way her eyes focused so intently on her work, the occasional readjustment of her wide glasses. She was as mesmerising as the day you had caught sight of her down the bar, just as silent, her words always carefully selected, impactful. You liked that about her, as well as everything else of course.

But despite this merry contentment, you worry you’re not good enough for her. Its that same endless worry that never comes to its conclusion, working itself around and around in your brain while you should be concentrating. She's already successful, accomplished, secure in who she is - although sometimes there are cracks that you glimpse. A quiver of her hand, a darting glance your way, truths held tightly behind her lips you think one day might slip through her carefully presented front. There are things she hasn’t said, perhaps never will, you don't know her well enough yet to guess.

It didn't matter why she used the cane, or why her gait was weighted through her right hip more than the left, or the symbols on her calendar that indicated certain doctors appointments. There were worse things wrong with you, you're sure. The relationship was still fresh and new, and you were finding a symbiosis with her - a contentment you’ve never felt before. You _want_ to ask. But rocking the boat was not worth the risk.

Besides, you were trying hard to keep yourself from worrying; so thinking about all the things you _didn't_ yet know or understand about Wilhemina Venable, only worsened this feeling.

Theres an insistent tapping, and your eyes flick up. Her plum fountain pen is hitting the table, her eyes staring at you and your lack of concentration. “At least _try_ to look like you’re studying.” She lays the fountain pen down again with a tight pursing of her lips.

Her discontentment causes a twist in your gut, and your cheeks redden. You were thinking about _her,_ and she caught you off in those distant thoughts. “Sorry, I was miles away,” You huff quietly, picking your highlighter up and offering a shy smile.

“Evidently.” Mina takes a slow breath in and out.

Your cell phone vibrates with a dull shake on the tabletop, and you check the screen, then ignore it. Focus on your work. Perhaps you’ll get to bed at a decent hour if you can both achieve some measure of completion in your work. Perhaps she’ll beckon you to her lap again and you’ll feel that blissful contentment you crave. The essays and lectures and two jobs to fit in - now spending the majority of the time in between with Mina, your schedule was full. You _needed_ that release.

The fountain pen taps again and you blink up. She gives you a withering look, and closes the lid of her laptop, taking her glasses off and folding them neatly atop it. You stare at the cold mug of tea balanced in your lap, your legs crossed up under you on the chair and sigh. “I just keep going over how much I have to do -“

“Staring into space won’t reduce your workload.” Your cell phone buzzes again and she practically spits, half standing to reach across the table and snatch it before you can check the lock screen again. “And _this,_ is not helping you.” You’re taken aback by her boldness, was she confiscating your phone? It didn't matter. It was only _her_ texts you check for anyway, waiting on the little spark of excitement that they produce in you. The reminder she _does_ like you. The rest just made you worry about all that other things you had to do outside of the safe bubble you had with her.

You felt as if from one day to the next your anxieties would overcome you and this all turns out to be some surreal daydream - that _you_ could hold the attentions of a woman like Wilhemina Venable is still unbelievable to you.

Unfurling your legs, you sigh and pad across to the kitchen island to reheat your peppermint tea. “Its just housemates wanting to organise some, apartment dinner. I don't know…” You shake your head dismissively as you watch you mug turn slowly round in the microwave.

You hear her cane and look to the sound, as Mina walks over to you. “I thought you barely saw them.” You feel her hand on your hip, the press of her belt buckle into your back as she holds you close. Mina draws your hair over one shoulder, clearing a path for her lips to find your neck and plant soft kisses there. “Wouldn’t you rather be here?”

“Of course,” You chuckle a small smile at how her lips tickle the sensitive skin of your neck. “I only see them in the kitchen really,” You reply, retrieving your mug of tea all the while abandoning it to simply turn and wrap your arms around her instead. “But I feel like _should_ go. And its nice to y’know, be included.”

Mina rolled her eyes and fidgeted the cane in her hand, your warm embrace holding her hips close to yours. Your affection is touching, if a little smothering. Its not her style but she's yet to be overly strict and you’re a nervous thing. This wasn’t the first time you’d dithered over all the directions you were being pulled. “You _should_ go? You _should_ be studying. You _should_ be working to pay off your mounting debt. You _should_ be on your knees between my legs sweetheart but you cant do all of it simultaneously.” Mina denounces your good-nature in swift defeating blow, leaning her weight against you to lift her cane, trying to restrain herself from double-tapping it and ordering you to your knees.

“I know - I know …” You lean your forehead against her shoulder for a moment, breathing in lavender and vanilla scents from her shampoo, wanting the world to just stop spinning.

Mina teases your hair between her thumb and forefinger. “ _Forget_ the other things,” She instructs with crisp words, slow and purposefully firm. “You’re not alone anymore. You belong to me and so does your emotional state.” You needed to be told. Her grip tightens on her cane. “So I’m telling you - “

 _“I can’t - “_ You whine.

Her chest practically growls. “Its not difficult - “ It was the same as any other task, prioritise, evaluate, focus on the most important and forego the others. Clinical and efficient; but you were unable to leave the emotions out of it. You pondered and panicked and refreshed your bank account webpage with increased depressive bursts. Your essays were laying languid on the dining table under mountains of research papers and you cared for some pointless housemate dinner? Mina swiped her fingers across her forehead in rising irritation, wanting to slap some sense into you. You were capable of so much more than these worries that took a hold of you.

“Its easy enough for you!” You spout in frustration, “You have your career, you have money already you don't need to worry about pissing people off, I cant do that!”

“Dear me, what a _tantrum,_ ” Miss Venable rolls her eyes, stepping back to take a long derisive look at you up and down, seeing that she is going to have to take the situation into her own hands. Whether you're ready for it or not, Mina would be damned before she let this anxiety consume your being.

“Oh Mina don’t, you knew how old I was when we started dating don't use it like that …,” Tears spring in your eyes because your fears are coming true right before you, she’s seeing you as not good enough, not able to manage or cope -“I’m not a child I can stand only own two feet. But to do that I need my job I need to not graduate with $50,000 of debt lagging behind me - “

“And _bar work_ will satisfy your debtors, hmm?” Her cane clacks as she scoffs a laugh at you.

Your emotions swell, your arms flapping haplessly at your sides. “I can’t get anything else around classes it has to be in the evening!”

“Which is your only time to see me,” She reminds you coolly.

You nod, rubbing the palm of your hand across your cheek drying the tears before she sees you as more pathetic than you already are. “I’m sorry I cant do it all…,” You whimper through your tears. The way she's looking at you, your anxieties are being mirrored back at you in the clouded darkness thats forming in her eyes. “I’m sorry I’m just, I’m _useless._ I’m so _stupid_ and you’re so amazing - “ Miss Venable quickly snaps her arm out, slapping you hard across the cheek in such a sudden alternation to the mood it takes the breath from your lungs. Your head spins to the side and your vision blinks blue, blurring for a moment.

“ _Don’t,_ say things like that about yourself,” She snaps harshly, her hand retracting and returning to her cane.

“Mina…?” You whimper in bewilderment. What had you done wrong? You _were_ those things, weren't you? 

A calm resolution comes over her features, her shoulders draw back and her neck grows tall. Miss Venable grips the rounded end of her cane and does a firm, harsh double tap on the floor with it. You laugh a little at what she was doing. You knew what the signal meant.

“My problems aren't going to be fixed by our bedroom games,” You sniff. It had always been kept to her bedroom, when the day was done, in the quiet moments.

Her thumb rubs the smooth metal side of the cane top habitually, taking a slow deep breath in and out her nose. “Do as you’re told,” Miss Venable lowers hervoice to a husky demanding tone. You’re standing there, brow forming a soft frown, but not responding as you usually did in the bedroom.

Granted, your likes and dislikes were still being discovered, and she was taking her time with you. You were keen to please her when it came to sex, and in turn knew that the orgasms she gave you were worth the effort. But Mina _longed_ for more, and not just that - you needed it. Whether you had had this realisation or not, Mina knew it was time to make you see how it wasn’t simply about sex, but it helped in _so many more ways._ Though you had barely been 6 months together she had to push you, if this was ever going to become the lifestyle she wanted. If you were to let go of these crippling anxieties you carried around.

She fidgets, needing you to see. To appreciate what was happening. “We agreed the -“ She began to say.

“The double tap, I know,” You confirm. You’re more than aware of the agreed signals and safe words. But you were in the middle of working, your peppermint tea was probably going cold again and you had study group in the morning when you needed to give feedback to the others in the group on their projects you hadn’t even looked over yet -

Miss Venable slaps you again, _harder._ You gasp in shock, and cover your stinging cheek with an unsettled touch of your hand. She bunches her lips and leans on her cane to step closer, the few inches of air pressed away from between you. “Interrupt me again and you’ll be sleeping on the floor. Now _kneel_ ,” Miss Venable hisses darkly.

Your find you eyes wet, as you blink the tears of shock away your eyes shimmer at her with unasked questions. _What was she doing?_ You don't understand, she’d never done this before and you’d sort of been arguing, or your frustrations at life were boiling over and your cell phone was buzzing again you could hear it from where she’d stowed it away, it was too much. Was she too much for you? Could you even make her happy? You don’t understand it, and she’s looking at you as though you’re the most awful disgusting person and maybe you are maybe you’re _not good enough_ , just like you believed.

Mina releases one hand from her cane and gently cups your cheek, sliding her hand to your neck, her fingers playing the soft skin there and into your hairline, and your chest shudders a desperate emotional breath. She leans in, her long metallic red ponytail hanging over her shoulder as she brings her lips to your ear. “Trust me, sweetheart. Just kneel,” She whispers, then stands back, straightening her shoulders again and waits.

You sniff, and nod. You _do_ trust her. You _do_ want to please her, of course its just - . You stop yourself from falling down that slippery slope of self depreciative thoughts again, and allow yourself a long exhale.

You kneel, one knee at a time until you’re at her feet in the kitchen, you shoulders slumped and your head hung low feeling just, _useless._ “I-I don't know what I should do, I _need_ you to…be in charge. _Please_ \- ” You murmur at the floor, your mess of emotions streaming down your cheeks likely making your eyeliner run in an ugly fashion. You feel her hand lay on your hair, her fingertips weave through to your scalp giving you reassurance.

“Oh I _will,_ ” Miss Venable purrs, and smiles to herself as you shimmy yourself closer again, your knees practically on the toes of her pale lavender stilettos. “But this isn’t about me. It’s about you.”

“Me?” You lift your eyes and crane your neck up to try and catch her gaze. You’re so adrift, lost in a metal grey sea of anxieties thundering themselves in your mind like a sailor battered by a storm.

Her dark eyes hold yours, and gift you a moment of clarity. “Yes. Giving over control is not just about that quick _thrill_ between your legs.” Her touch shifts delicately down behind your ear, dragging her thumb and forefinger both sides of your jawbone until she's gripping your chin holding your head keeping your gaze to her. “Its deeper than that.” 

Your lips part to ask, but before the words even leave your throat the pad of her thumb presses your bitten red lips closed. “Allow me to show you. You may stop at any time. But the usual rules, and manners apply. Do you understand?”

Your glance briefly falls away, the anxious pounding of your heart not stopping, until she gives your chin a shake and it makes everything stop, for just a second. You heart, your breath, your constant stream of thoughts. You focus on her, and you nod.


	2. Chapter 2

Stepping around to the side of you, rather than standing in front, Miss Venable leans on her cane to bend at the waist, her back unable to curl over like most peoples. Her fingers wrap around the back of your t-shirt, curling the hem into her fist and taking a good strong hold of you. “Move with me.”

You feel the hold she has, and when sends her cane forward to step out, you bring one knee up to push to your feet but her fist digs firmly in to the top of your spine. The height difference gives her the ability to put more weight behind the pressure, and it makes you buckle right down again. You peer up with a demanding frown. “Miss Venable - ?”

The corner of her lips moves, amused. “I didn’t give you permission to stand.” You had been a quick learner in the beginning, and she expected this trend to continue, despite your shaky emotional state. “Now _move_ with me.” She steps out and leans on her cane with one hand once again, and seemingly tugs you along with the other.

You shoulders are slightly higher than you need, to keep your weight shared between your hands and knees as you adjust to the pace of her steps. You haven't crawled like this on your hands and knees (besides searching for lost highlighters under your desk) since you were a kid, and it takes a few strides to get used to the sensation. The way you slide your knees on the wooden floor, enough to try and keep up with her, not too much you get ahead, or lose balance. You have no idea what she's doing or why only that she's telling you to do it, but you had agreed to follow her lead.

Mina flicks her cane then walks, a rhythmical pattern to the swagger of how she moved her hips side to side that you can appreciate better from this low angle. Each of your scooting crawls at her side made Miss Venable feel taller and more powerful. You weren’t protesting. You were trusting her. She catches sight of a ghost of her reflection on the glass double doors to the balcony, and she bites her lower lip wickedly. It felt _magnificent._

“Good girl,” she cooed, slowing on the turn into the bathroom allowing you to shuffle quicker around to keep at her side. She leads you across the cold white tiles to the door of the shower, while her hand releases the crumpled hem of your t-shirt, looking down at you. The taut pull of your t-shirt on your neck loosens, and the halt of her step makes you look up. Miss Venable indicates you inside. You catch yourself in a laugh, _why was she putting you in the shower?_ Her cane double taps the tile with a hollow clang, her features stern. “Stop _thinking,_ and just do as you’re told.”

Your eyes widen, turning your head from her to the shower cubicle, then back to her. The end of her cane jabs at you like a shepherd with a crook pushing you not-so-gently inside the small square space. You rub hands over your face with uncertainty. Maybe she knew what she was doing. But you had so much to do and you're not sure if her bedroom games are just wasting time you should be spending studying. The tip of her cane catches your flank and you yelp, sighing and conceding. You crawl into the shower and turn so you’re facing her.

Mina leans half a step in herself, the vibrancy of her purple palette almost shining, now it was reflected off every glass panel around you and the silvery edges of each shower pane, the shower hose and white enamel floor. Everywhere you looked, something was reflecting her colour, but your distracted observations are shocked from your mind as she twists the shower knob and cold water bursts from the shower. “Aahh!” You exclaim, as Mina carefully and quickly steps out of the way before the stream of water marks her skirt with dark wet spots. She closes the shower door on you and stands outside it, as if guarding you. “Miss Venable what are you doing!” You sputter through the stream of ice cold water, as the water soaks through your clothes to reach your pale skin.

“This is a lesson. One you need.” Miss Venable stares at you, inside her heart hammering nervously about what she was doing. Is is too soon? Its not as though you came to her already experienced, moving from one dom to the next simply readjusting the boundaries and quirks of what your master or mistress liked. You were young, and green, your eagerness entirely natural and yet untended. Mina didn’t just _know_ the benefits of such relationships with power exchanges like theirs, she _believed_ in it. One could call it subculture or fetish or any number of labels, but Miss Venable didn’t associate with such names, or the need for them. _This_ was how she loved. _This_ was how she wanted you to feel.

_Free._

You run your hands over your hair pressing the water out that was building up and sending chills through your very bones. “This water is freezing!” You splutter and wrap your arms around yourself.

Her cane taps the tiled floor emphasising her lesson. “Learn to get out of your head. Stop thinking.” Miss Venable commands, sounding strict and firm. You’ve never seen such conviction in someone. You’re still in your clothes and soaked through and you’re chilled right to your soul.

“I’m getting cold!” You protest. You wish you could be like her, so sure of yourself so certain, confident, striking. 

“Good!” She barks, not giving you space to waiver. “You’ll stay there until you’ve learnt.” You slip from your knees, your ankle bones on the enamel shower base starting to rub uncomfortably. So you sit on your behind, shoulders slumping, your arms wrapped around your knees in the cold shower closing your eyes trying to accept whatever lesson it is she's teaching you. With your eyes closed all your senses are redirected to what you can feel; the incessant pattering of water drops on your body, their gentle pressure even through your clothes. Or what you can hear; the sound of a constant tinkering drumbeat, whether the water hits you, the floor, or the glass cubicle walls surrounding you. Its all consuming, its all around you. “Do you feel it?” Her voice cuts through the sound and wakes your mind momentarily, tilting her head just slightly, looking at you with a soft imperceptible expression.

You don't want to disappoint her, but whatever she's doing isn’t working. “I don’t really feel anything,” You call back through the water, the tension and fear and confusion gone from your body, simply sitting under the stream of water accepting the fact you’re cold and thats what she wants, and maybe you’ll just have to chalk the evening up to Mina being more peculiar than normal.

Miss Venable bites down a small smile, but her cheeks are still grinning. “And what are you thinking about?”

You shake your head. “Nothing. Just that I’m cold!”

She nods, and opens the shower door leaning inside risking the sleeve of her blouse to switch the water off. “Good.” Mina says quietly, gesturing for you to come out. She drags a towel from the rail and folds it over her arm patiently. “Take off your clothes, unless you intend to drip all over my bathroom, hmm?”

You’ve barely crawled out of the cubicle and you squeeze the water from your knotty hair, glancing up at her from the floor, then look about you. You are creating quite the puddle, but your clothes are heavy with water, so its no surprise. “Oh, right …,” Your cheeks are red from the cold so she doesn’t see how ashamed you feel at not understanding her lesson. You start to yank your arms into your t-shirt, but the material sticks to young its a struggle to yank the cotton up and over your head. You unclip your bra and let it fall to the floor, then shift around onto your ass to pop the button of your jeans and shove them off your hips, the dark denim stiff and uncompromising in their sodden state.

Its a stark difference between you, when you look over to her. She smiles, and adjusts her glasses, her appearance ever perfect. The layers of lilac plum and lavender from blouse to neck scarf to skirt, pale pink nearly skin tone tights and the soft leather of her strappy heels. Mina carried an air of sophistication, where others would be ridiculed for the monotone one-colour wardrobe, she owned it, effusing a confidence you could drink up all day.

“Come to me. _Don’t_ think about standing.” Miss Venable taps her cane indicates you to obey, eyeing the space in front of her feet.

You crawl over, cautious that you don't slip on the wet floor, and sit at her knees. “I’m sorry I didn’t … get whatever it was you were trying to do,” You mumble, coming to a halt and sitting back on your haunches, looking up at the statuesque woman.

She smiles, trying to look soft but her eyes betray her. “Thats because I’m not done with you sweetheart,” Miss Venable leans over to graze her fingertips under your jaw. “Now kneel up. Hands on the side of the bath.” You’re starting to shiver and your bare skin is covered in goosebumps but you do what you’re told. The way she stalks behind you wakes you between your legs, despite how cold you are. Its as if she’s toying with ideas in her mind, and the possibilities that spring into your own are tantalising. You press your eyes shut as your clit starts to throb. _No, that not what this is,_ you tell yourself. She said it wasn’t about cheap thrills, but something deeper.

Fingering her hairbrush, idly pulling the lengths of red hair from it, you want to laugh at your own stupidity. As if she was going to play with you. She's punishing you. She's cold showered you. The swoosh of something through the air makes your chest hitch a breath before you even feel it -

The smooth side of the hairbrush smacks your wet ass with a loud slap, and a bright sparking sting. She smacks you again, leaning on her cane and bringing up her arm to swing it down against your are skin. “Fuck - !” You exclaim in surprise, the pain burns white hot and so much worse than her cane or her hand usually do. She's on you in a second, stepping over your legs so her ankles are astride yours, behind you and grabbing your neck in her clawed hand yanking your head back harshly.

“You know how I feel about cursing,” Miss Venable hisses, digging her nails hard into your skin and pinching your windpipe, the pressure and instant light headedness making your mind swim. You hold your breath and try a meek nod, show you’ve heard her, that you understand.

Throwing your head forwards again as she releases you and steps back, you gasp a breath in and pant your immediate apology. “I’m sorry Miss Venable, it wont happen again.”

She steps back, and re-assumes the position. _Slap… slap… ,_ she strikes you again without warning, and again, and the pain ricochets through your bruised flesh forcing whimpers to crawl from your throat, and a shameful excitement to burst between your legs. Your panting breaths aren’t just from the shock anymore, and noticing this, she stills, and draws back. In place of the harsh strikes of her hairbrush you feel the ghosting touch of her hand, smoothing down the curve of your ass and stroking her handiwork, humming softly as she reaches the arch between your legs and dips inside you just an inch, finding you shamefully wet.

“Dear _dear_ ,” Miss Venable purrs, rubbing the cloudy arousal between her thumb and forefinger. “Unfortunately for you this is not about sex.”

Your breath whines from your chest, your need immeasurable.

Miss Venable brings the stool from beside the bath and sits carefully down onto it, using the cane to lower herself to the wood. Its a little too low for what she needs, but it suits the bathroom. Leaning her cane against the side of the roll top bath, she flutters the towel out from its neat folds so its big and inviting.

As you sit back on our haunches, your scorched ass lean onto your heels and you hiss under your breath. You look over to her, and you think that towel looks like the softest fluffiest thing you’ve seen. Your mind tells you its just perspective, compared to sitting alone in the cold for the last ten minutes, then shivering on the bathroom tiles, of course this warming sight beckons a relief in you. Maybe this is her lesson?

Crawling the short distance to her calves, you turn at her instruction, sitting patiently as she wraps the towel around your shoulders, soothing you with smothering warmth. Your eyes fall shut as you will away the incessant throbbing in your clit, relaxing at her touch. Mina argues with your hair elastic slipping it over her wrist to start to untangle your hair with a hairbrush. “Do you understand now?” Mina whispers into your ear, pressing a soft kiss behind it, then continuing to brush your hair tenderly.

Careful not to disrupt her affectionate brushing, you shake your head. “….no, I’m sorry I -“

“What were you thinking about in the shower.”

“Nothing, I - “

“And when I beat you, were you, oh I don't know, worrying about some silly housemate dinner?”

“Well - no I mean what you were doing was, y’know …-“

 _“Exactly,”_ She cooed, touching her fingers to your chin encouraging your gaze up to her. “It cleared your mind.” Laying the brush on her lap she cups your face in both hands as you turn to face her, kneeling at your mistresses feet staring at her awe, her seemingly cruel instructions only beginning to make sense. “You were grounded in that moment, nothing else mattered except the water and my voice.” Her thumb rubs across your still wet cheekbone, as if examining you with a gently critical eye, wondering if she had awoken in you what she needed to.

You nod, starting to understand.


	3. Chapter 3

“Now, without my hold this time. Crawl at my side. _Don’t,_ put your hands further forward than my step.” You nod. “Its a matter of respect.” Her finger taps the pouch of your cheek like she's telling off a puppy with a bop on the nose. Its strange, you know how this looks. How it should feel … humiliating. What would your friends think if they saw you do this? Crawling alongside your girlfriend like a pet dog, subordinate, controlled, _owned._ Even murmured in the dark corners of your mind the word makes you shudder, right through your body between your legs.

“Yes Miss Venable,” You whisper obediently.

She begins her slow, swinging pace, cane then foot, cane then foot. Balancing her step each time before leaning through that hip she struggles with, expression porcelain and faultless. The length of her red ponytails swings as she walks, casting her eyes down her shoulder to monitor your movements beside her. To your credit, you keep pace, half a step back so as to never go ahead. You _did_ listen, Miss Venable smiled to herself. You were getting it.

Passing the chaise, she snatches the woven wool blanket, making sure to take the turn slow so you can keep at her side. Your knees start to rub raw; first the shower, then the spanking, now this? You’d not spent such a prolonged time on your knees before, and the glossy wood floors of her apartment will give you blisters if you have to keep it up. “Now, I’m going to manoeuvre you, and you will remain sitting in that precise position.” To the left of the balcony doors, she flutters the blanket out, using her foot and the end of her cane to stretch it somewhat square. She snaps her fingers.

You look at her in confusion. Then her cane taps twice, and you scurry onto it. Miss Venable hitches up her pastel purple skirt just a few inches, so she can crouch. You rear back, thats an unusual move for her - its got to be difficult given her balance issues. But she says nothing as she works, her features concentrated on positioning your body. Sitting on your knees. Feet pointed in, toes flat, your back, bolt straight, hands flat on the floor either side of your thighs. Finally, her hand presses on your neck, and encourages your head to bow. “For … how long, Miss Venable?” You stammer, your wet hair dangling either side of your face in thick clumps.

“Until I say otherwise.”

Her strappy heels stride slowly out of your field of vision. You hear the bounce of the chaise as she sits, and the wrinkle of a broadsheet newspaper being spread out on the coffee table.

Did she expect you to just, sit there? “Miss Venable…?” You squeak, daring to look up because this isn’t the most comfortable and your work has been abandoned on the table and -

“Quiet.” She hisses, her eyes fixed on yours. You shiver, still feeling the chill from the shower - or was it her disappointment at seeing you move? You whimper - the cane taps _loudly_ , and you drop your head.

Your chest sighs. You stare at the little goosebumps on your thigh and the tiny blonde hairs.

How much time has passed? It's impossible to tell. Something pierces your field of vision, a pair of bare feet, and mauve lacquered toes. You blink and come to, feel her fingers spreading through your hair and scratching your scalp delicately. “There, pet.” Your head falls against her legs, and you’re surprised by the soft silk you feel. Your hair is dry.

Her fingers ghost down your jaw and oblige you to look up. “You did well.” Her words fill your chest with joy, making you heave and release a long, deep groan. Perhaps you’re expelling something, letting it escape you but you would've fallen right over had her grip on your chin not held you up.

“Wh-what time is it?” You cough, lost in the scent of her, the sight of her, you drag your numb arms up and fumble around her legs, holding her tightly. There was nothing, right now outside of Wilhemina Venable.

“Its late,” Mina cooed, releasing your chin but continuing to stroke your hair. “Look.” She points with her cane and you follow it, seeing out the balcony doors that its dark. “Didn’t that feel good, sweetheart?” You’re confused; its dark, your joints are locked and hugging her tight even feels like now you’re there, you don't want to ever move. Have you really sat there so long? Hours? Your mind spins.

“I-I didn’t feel anything,” You whisper.

Her hand settles between your shoulder blades. “ _Exactly,”_ She breathes. “You weren’t worrying, you weren't overthinking. You gave your mind over, to _me_.”

With a dry swallow, you turn your head and look at her. She was right. You hadn’t been sitting there thinking about the essay you needed to write, or the texts buzzing on your cell phone from housemates you didn't give a shit about. You had simply sat, and waited on her instruction. Dozed perhaps.

Miss Venable had stopped those anxious voices in your head, and the silence is so blissful you could almost cry.

Extracting herself from your grip, she steps back, and you realise she's already changed for bed. Her knee length lilac nightdress, silk robe - now the bare feet make sense. Mina taps her thigh, and though it takes you a moment to see what she wants, you _do_ , see it. Putting one hand in front of the other you crawl to her side, and she presses your head to her the way one would a young child, then begins to walk.

This time its automatic. You crawl alongside your mistress and you swear you can hear the joy in the little laugh she does, seeing you just, _do it._

Mina’s wanted this for so long, each little step toward a lifestyle she longs for - with a woman she's already damn falling for feels like a victory. Not just for her, but for people like her who enjoy this, and have partners who want it too.

“Up on the bed.” Miss Venable pats the bedspread and you obediently comply, as she retrieves the black rope from her bedside drawer. Balancing her cane against the side of the bed she sits down on the edge, and flicks her fingers at you beckoningly.

You offer your wrists. “You know in bed, you’re not allowed to touch me.” She begins, as the rope is expertly snaked and knotted around your wrists, then looped around your waist so your hands are bound near your navel.

“Yes Miss Venable.” You start to feel that damn throbbing between your thighs already.

“But I may touch you.” She continues, a mere feathering touch on your shoulder to ease you over. Your head and shoulders fall on the satin sheets unable to catch yourself or lower yourself all elegant, its more of a flop, hands tightly bound. Vendable’s fingers are inside you in an instant. “Whenever I want.” Three poker straight fingers are thrusting deep into your core, not giving you any foreplay or time to get used to such girth, but she knows you’ll adjust. Your thighs are shaking and your muscles clenching in delight around her fingers, wetness already beginning to ooze over her digits.

“Yes Miss Venable,” You shudder, groaning as you try to clamp your legs together, but her twisting fingers stay where they are. Your legs close over her hand and wrist and she doesn’t care one bit, her fingers are still where she wants them and she can reach that sweet spot that has you writhing when she rubs it, and _God_ does she know how to work you.

“Good girl.” Mina purred, the pad of her thumb clamping onto your clit and pressing in a circular motion still that had you yelping at the sudden shock - your shoulders curling up off the pillow tensing as you’re about to come - only for her yank her hand and fingers and thumb right back.

You stammer her name, muscles twitching suddenly empty not knowing what to do. “M-Miss Venable?”

The light flicks off, and she slips under the covers, feeling only her lips on your cheek, and not where you want them. “Goodnight sweetheart.”

In the agonising darkness of the bedroom, unable to reach your pulsing arousal to relieve that heat she worked up in you, you groan softly, and you swear you hear her chuckle. 


End file.
